She had to wait some minutes in an outer office, wherein three young men of
spirited costume and appearance regarded her with ill-concealed curiosity and
admiration. Why hadn't he gone on with the girl's
story? What instinct had stuffed it back into his throat? Why the inexplicable
impulse to hurry this rather pathetic derelict on his way?
CHAPTER XV
Previous to his illness, Spurlock's mind had been tortured by an appalling worry,
so that now, in the process of convalescence, it might be compared to a pool
which had been violently stirred: there were indications of subsidence, but there
were still strange forms swirling on the surface—whims and fancies which in
normal times would never have risen above sub-consciousness. "Ah!" she screamed, seeing the uplifted weapon in Sheppard's hand, "don't hurt
Thames—don't, dear Jack! If you want to kill somebody, kill me, not him. Better they should
find the so-called Valade.
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